


As It Seems

by NightDawning



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, I promise, it'll get worse, it's good though, it's happy for a bit, kind of my own take on how I think magic and magical items work, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightDawning/pseuds/NightDawning
Summary: The year is 1945 and Tom Riddle has just made his 3rd horcrux. It's his last year at Hogwarts and he feels that nothing can stop him now, however an element he did not predict comes into play. Firtina Canem. Or Addison Fortis. Depending on who you ask. A strange girl with silver-white hair who doesn't obey rules very well, and for some reason seems to be hiding something. As is the saying; things are not always as they seem.Firtina, or Addison, has just transferred to Hogwarts from  Illvermony, the American School for young witches and wizards.





	1. Old Endings/New Begginings

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of JK's characters that appear in this work, or any situations and or place of her's. All I own is the messed up place that is my mind and the beautifully awful ideas it comes up with.

The man was tall, with sharp shoulders and a stern look on a face chiseled from stone. His clothes were dark, and simple in make, but obviously of the finest quality. A gray suit clung to his shape for dear life, a black dress coat covered that, and finishing the look a dark fedora perched atop his head making him seem even taller.

He has dark, graying hair that peeked out from under his hat, and a high collar whispering of a high position in society. Everything about him was dull and sharp at the same time. Like a rusty knife, even if the wound didn’t look that bad, you’d still have to worry about the rust getting into your bloodstream and a slow agonizing death. His eyes were like fire. His face is twisted into a hard scowl.

He had drawn his wand and was now gripping it in his right hand with white knuckles, his wand another thing that spoke of the power he held. A black diamond styled into the shape of a spear with a menacing tip headed the imposing wand. It's body was silver chromium metal, with a white river monster spine core, and ended in a large black pearl that was cut to look like the fledgings of an arrow with 3 ridges. The body had a thin rope of silver around the middle, designed to look like the white river monster core it contained. Right before the diamond on the bottom though, there were 6 tiny circular jewels, all about 4 millimeters in diameter in a straight row. Starting from the bottom is a purple musgravite, a pink taaffeite, a deep blue tanzanite, a jadeite, a pink star diamond, and at the top a red painite. All were the rarest gems of the world. White River Monster was hard to tame, but not the hardest. It chose only the wizards that it thought would use it the best. It prefers powerful wizards, but refuses to work transfigurations. However, if it chooses to do so, it can turn on it’s master, and has no real loyalties to any one master.

The girls eyes match his, filled with fire, but hers is a cold burn. Like shards of ice. She too, was all sharp edges and the very way she stood emitted power. That was where the resemblance ended. While his hair was a dull shade of gray, hers was several shades of silver. His skin was tan and leathery, hers was pale and almost iridescent with the glow of youth clinging to her skin. Her form fitting baby blue sweater paired with her black pants were of simple make. The sweater was threading in some places, and her pants were faded with wear. Her status as an orphan spelled out across her body. Her stance was relaxed and rigid all at once. Like a pacing wildcat.

She twirls her wand with her fingers, and stares furiously at the man. Her wand was made of metal, like his, but not the same. Her wand is headed by colorless, clear taaffeite styled into a triangle pyramid cradled by the metal, also with a sharp tip. It's body was made of black tungsten, a stronger metal, with a thunderbird feather core, and ended in a large lightning ridge black opal. Hers was slender but designed. In the middles of the body was a simple double twist, leaving a small space where her wand was not solid, and the rest widened at each base but tapered as it headed for the middle. At the bottom circling the black opal embedded in the metal were 3 other opals, all 5 millimeters in diameter. One was a dragon’s breath opal, another was a white opal, and the last was a green opal. Thunderbird is harder to tame than white river monster, and is more adept at casting wordless spells. It’s also largely more loyal. It was easily the most expensive thing she owned.

They wage war with their eyes, and draw weapons with their bodies. On even ground, neither could break the other. In the midst of battle, the girl finally spoke.

"No." Her voice wavers but does not break, her face showing her contempt for the man that stands before her. The man’s eyes flash dangerously, but he keeps his face a mask of indifference.

"You are a Fortis, a strong blood line, you have no right-"

The girl’s eyes widen a fraction and she, impulsive;y, thrusts her wand to point at the man, magic crackling at the tip, and in the air menacingly. Her magic presence whips at his, and he jerks in discomfort. Her Summa Aspectu, her magical force, is very strong. Stronger than most. She speaks low, her voice razor sharp, "I have every right. 11 years. 11. The last time I saw you, I was six. Even then, you had nothing to do with me,” she gulped down the bile rising in her throat, “ nothing to do with us, and now you come to me like you know me, like I owe you something! Until now, I was nothing to you, a bit of dirt under your nail that was just deep enough that you couldn't get me out.” her voice grows steadily louder, “ Don't pretend like if you could have gotten rid of me you would not have taken the first chance you got. Oh, but now - now you’re interested in me because you sent someone to spy on me? To see if I’m as powerful as you wish me to be? Now you see that I’m at the top of my class in every way? Because I have some kind of ‘potential’? I don’t think so. You can go and die for all I care!" The last sentence scrapes out of her mouth in shreds, meant to harm, but the man sighs as if speaking to a child who just couldn’t understand sense. He stares at her for a fraction of a second more before he continues.

“Addison, I know you went through a rough time with your mom. I left because of reasons you wouldn’t understand. I loved Ivette-”

“How dare you speak her name!” She roars out, and this time when her Aspectu lashes out, he slides back a few feet, as if pushed by a strong wind, and takes a step back with a pained face. He lets her seeth for a second, and recovers. After a pause he starts again.

"Addison, your very name states what you are. You are my daughter. The daughter of a ruler. You cannot dishonor that." The air grew warm with his words, and the way he looks at her reveals the truth. This is her father.

And she utterly despises him.

"Then hear this, Adam." She says it with disdain, " I renounce my name and inheritance. I want nothing to do with you or your plans - forget me heading it! You are nothing to me, and if I never see you again, it will be too soon." She didn’t wait for him to respond; instead she sends a reducto his way, and apparates in a swirl of black smoke, the action telling of a strength the father cannot control.

She reappears at her school. Ilvermorny. She races to the headmaster's office and explains that because of a dire emergency, she has to leave America. The headmaster nods his nearly ancient head, but his eyes were grave. Addison could tell he knew something was different than what she has disclosed. She left hesitantly, he had grown on her, but she knew that she had to leave. With a solemn goodbye, she apperates again.

She emerges on the sidewalk of a small building in a tiny harbor town. The heated air clings heavily to her skin, however the natural coolness of her body creates a slight halo of steam around her body. The building, in all of its ancientness used to be white, but now was a yellowing, sagging thing. It’s boards were cracked, and the paint was peeling off. The front porch had 2 holes, and the stairs were barely stable at best. It was 3 stories high and housed orphans from the surrounding counties. She was one of the oldest there, a part of The Originals as the younger kids tended to call them.

It’s an orphanage like every other, a prison, and it will never be home.

She rushes in through the front door, and up the stairs, away from the other kids prying eyes, and whispering mouths. Like always, they wonder how she could be so strange, and how she was never very sociable. They think it’s strange how a snake seems to be her only friend. They whisper about how some rich person is apparently paying for her to go a boarding school every year, and how she comes back during the summer and holidays looking more and more ragged every time, but also somehow more intimidating.

She’s almost to the top when she runs into the oldest boy. He had come into the orphanage the same day she had, unlike other stories, they did not become friends. They despise each other. He’s slightly taller than she is and has a head full of unruly brown hair. His eyes are a dull shade of pale brown, and his clothes were simple at best. Too large shirts and pants that were too small cluttered his closet. His face morphing into a snarl when he sees her.

“Where’ve ya been Freak? I know ya don’tve any friends, so what crap are ya gettin inta?” He brings his face too close to hers, and she can smell the mix of liquor and tobacco on his breath.

“It’s not really any of your business, is it Hayden? However, I am touched that you’re worried about me.” She ends sweetly, and revels in the way his face flips to disgust. “Move.”

“No, I don’t fink I weel.” He seems to settle in his spot in the middle of the staircase. Addison sighs.

“Do I need to tell Mrs.Hudison that you’ve been smoking and drinking again. It’s obviously clouded your puny brain, and addled your senses.”

“Don’t spweak that crap to me, freak. That hag won’t do nuttin.” Spit flies out of his mouth and lands on the staircase, just barely missing her shoe. She breaths in and out to calm herself, and closes her eyes, before looking back up and into his eyes. She flashes her animagus eyes to him, and his face immediately slacks in fear. He pushes past her, almost sprinting down the stairs, and nearly trips down the last flight.

Her victory is short lived when she remembers that she needs to move fast. She gets to her room, the last door in the hall, and taps it twice with her wand to unlock it. She always locks it with magic when she leaves, because she does not want the other kids snooping in her room. Especially when she leaves her snake there. Normal locks won’t work because almost all of the kids are experienced lock pickers, though she can’t judge. So is she. She slings the door open, and lurches into the room.

Hurriedly she begins shoving her meager belongings into a gray duffel bag she got down from the closet, flicking her wand, her magic aiding in pulling the cloths from the drawers and folding them neatly into the bag. She falls gracefully to her knees and casts a revealing spell, and a small, long wooden box appears. She fishes it out from under her bed, and opens it reverently. Her mother's wand sits, and hums slightly, sensing her. Her mother’s wand was made of tungsten, like Addison’s, but it was pure white. The top is a spear shaped pink poudretteite, and the bottom was a rounded red sunstone. The body had a single line of chocolate diamond designed to look like a vine with small green serendibite leaves that started at the bottom and ended at the top where bigger green serendibite leaves cupped the poudretteite. It had a wumpus hair core, one of the loyalest cores, it took only to a loving master, and it’s strongest capabilities were in healing. Don’t think it can’t cast powerful defensive and offensive spells though, not many have and survived unscathed. It hummed affectionately when she touched it, but Addison had never tried to use it, afraid that it would reject her. Wumpus cores were only ever truly loyal to one master. She grabs the small photo laying on top of the wand, and strokes it lovingly. A woman stands with her arms wrapped around the shoulders of a small laughing girl. The resemblance is striking, the little girl looks like a carbon copy, albeit younger version, of the woman. Her eyes well with tears that were shed 10 years ago, but movement on her shoulder startles her out of her trance-like state. Somehow her snake, Inferno, has made his way onto her shoulder without her noticing.

“What’s wrong precious one?”

Long ago she had figured out her own spell that allowed her to be able to talk to Inferno. A spell of her own making, it also allowed her to talk to him as well. He was a black ball python with orange markings that made it look like fire was racing down his body.  
“I’m ok Inferno. I’m just tired.”  
He nuzzles Addison’s face gently, and she banishes her tears with one swipe of a hand and places the picture in the bag. She stands back up, and continues to pack. She has no more tears to shed for what was lost.  
She’s almost finished when there’s a rustle outside her door that announces the arrival of the old woman who was the closest she has to a mother now. She flicks her wand again, and the clothes stop floating through the air, and drop to the floor with a soft thud. She shoves her wand in a hidden pocket in her sweater in a move that takes her only a second.  
“Mrs.Hudison,” she said as the woman entered the room. The woman’s eyes were sweet, and it made Addison’s heart ache. Mrs.Hudison embraced her quickly, and patted Inferno’s head, before realizing the state of Addison’s room. The smile slides off her face, and she looks to the bed where Addison’s bag was still open.  
“What’s this? I thought your boarding school didn’t start for another week at least.” She searches the girl’s face, and sees it. The hurt and desperation.  
“What? What’s happened? I swear if Hayden has said something that has made you become like this, I’ll toss him out, I swear it I will! That boy-” The girl cut her off with a broken laugh.  
“No. It wasn't Hayden. You know he can’t affect me this way.” She pauses and Mrs.Hudison waits patiently.  
“I met my father today.” Mrs.Hudison stands frozen for a moment before she embraces Addison again, harder this time. Addison stiffens before she lets some of the tears fall, and Mrs.Hudison rubs soothing circles on her back. Letting go, the woman nods in understanding.  
“I wish you every happiness, and know that I will always welcome you here.” She turns to go, but Addison’s hand shoots out to grip her thin wrist.  
“I hope you know that if I had another choice, I wouldn’t do this. Please forgive me…” She trails off as she lifts her wand to Mrs.Hudison’s temple. Right before the words slip out of her mouth, the old woman turns and smiles softly.  
“Obliviate.” Silent tears fall down Addison’s face as she watches Mrs.Hudison’s eyes dull for a moment. A few seconds later her eyes clear and she looks as if she’s lost, and then ambles out of the room.  
After that she does the same thing to each of the other orphans. She couldn’t miss even one. If her father ever discovered this place, none of them would survive unscathed.  
“New den?” Inferno questions excitedly. He’d never really liked the kids here. They stared at his precious one strangely.  
“Yes, new den.” she agreed.  
The girl finishes packing, and picks up the bag. She apparates fast, and lands at an airport.  
“Where you headed?” A brown haired man asks her when she gets to the counter.  
“Scotland” she replies quickly. He hands her the ticket and she steps back, heading to the hanger.  
To Hogwarts.

Any comments that you have would be much appreciated! Thank you~


	2. A Familiar Name

I glance back down at the small, slightly crumpled paper in my hand as I travel through the train station.

-Uniform  
Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)  
One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear  
One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times.  
-Other Equipment  
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set of brass scales  
Students may also bring an Owl, a Cat or a Toad.

_I’m under the impression you have your own wand, so you don’t need to worry about that. I would ask that you buy any books that you might think you need. We will provide any that you were unaware you needed and didn’t get. Your pet snake is also welcome at Hogwarts so long as he doesn’t hurt another student._   
_I’m very sorry to hear about your situation in America. It must have been hard for you to leave everything you knew behind. You will be sorted with the first years, but do not fret, you’ll fit in just fine here at Hogwarts._

Armando Dippet’s handwriting was a bit difficult to read, but I managed to get through it. Of course I had to make up a story to explain why I was coming to Hogwarts on such short notice, but lying is something I’ve had a lot of practice with over the years.   
I had told him that my parents had died, attacked by a rogue group of wizards, and that I had been attending Ilvermorny. I had expressed that it was just too hard to stay in America, and begged him to consider taking me in. He had accepted with gusto after reading my transcript from Ilvermorny. My headmaster had also written him a letter of recommendation describing what a good student I was, and the importance of my first year when all the houses had turned to claim me for their house, the first to do so in 40 years. Though I chose Wumpus, the rest of the houses still acted like I was one of their own. Thinking of Ilvermorny was hard, I would miss the people there. I reminded myself that I couldn’t make any real friends here. It was of the utmost importance that I don’t get close to anybody here. After making sure that I had gotten everything on the list, I headed to the train station.   
Absentmindedly, I slip a stray strand of silver hair behind my ear, and place the folded sheet of paper into my small bag. It contained all of my things. From the books I needed to the things I took from the orphanage. I had put the duffel bag I had taken from the orphanage. The only reason I had taken it at all was so that I wouldn’t look suspicious to the no-mags. It was an enchanted bag that was made to look like a small side bag, but in reality it was seemingly bottomless. I do not put Inferno in there though, he does not like “the Pit” as he calls it, so he stays tucked under my scarf.   
There were, it seemed, a lot of people in London. It’s difficult to push through the crowd, and people keep bumping into me. The accents were also something I was going to have to get used to, it was almost abrasive to my ears, and didn’t flow correctly, I felt. Inferno snuggles closer to my neck, cozy under the scarf I have hidden him under. His head nudges me gently, sensing my agitation.  
The ticket said platform 9 ¾ so I walk to the space in between the 9 and 10. I glance around and decide that I had gone completely mad. I was just about to start wandering around, hopefully to find a fellow witch or wizard to help me out when suddenly a stir in the air behind me alerted me to an Aspectu, and someone taps me on my shoulder. I turn around to find a strong bodied guy looking me up and down. His beige and red diamond cardigan matched his khaki pants, and he has a white undershirt. He has ebony hair that falls in lazy waves around his face, and honeyed walnut brown eyes that could make even the coldest heart melt.   
“Hi, I’m Alphard. You look lost.” He says it as a statement, not a question. He gazes at me with a slight smile as I stay silent, and I realize that was his way of asking me if he could help me in some way.  
“O-Oh yeah. I’m looking for…” I fade off for a second, realizing that if I told him I was looking for platform 9 ¾ he might be a no-mag, and only have a portion of magic blood in him, and think me crazy. I study him closer, looking for any sign that he could be a wizard. My answer stared at me from his hand. Nestled in the space between his pointer finger and his thumb was hard patch of callouses. For a last study, I reached out with my own and felt for his magical pulse. Every witch and wizard has one, some are stronger than others, depending on how magically strong the witch or wizard is, but all have one.   
He is a wizard. Although it’s not just that part of his hand that has callouses, his palms have them as well, as if he grips something with both palms regularly. I wonder if he does anything else besides magic?   
“Yes, I’m looking for platform 9 3/4 ?” He nods as if expecting that answer, and gestures to the brick wall that held the sign “10”. He gives me a mischievous look, runs straight at the wall….and disappears. I blink hard before shrugging.  
What’s the worst that could happen, after all.   
I run at the wall, bracing myself for impact, but it never comes. I step out into what looks like a whole different train station. People were milling about, and the high sense of magic was palpable. Alphard is standing to the left with his hands in his pockets. I trot over to him, and he lets out a small laugh. He smiles kindly at me for a second before he cocks his head to the side studying me again.   
“You don’t look like a first year, but I assume you’re heading to Hogwarts?” I nod, and the creases in his forehead deepen, “Your accent is also strange, you almost sound American…” he trails off, and I shrug.   
“Yeah, I came from Ilvermony. Decided I wanted a change of scenery.” I look straight into his eyes, laugh lightly, glance around while I sweep the air with my hand, indicating the train station, and then look straight back into his eyes again.   
People, whether they are aware of it or not, respond positively to someone who gestures, makes eye contact, and laughter, seeing that person as more truthful.  
He laughs a little, and I can’t help but smile. Even though I know I just misguided him, his smile is infectious. Just then, we hear the whistle blow, signaling for us to rush to board the train. After helping me shove my stuff into the holding compartment, Alphard is nudged by another boy, this one slightly smaller with chocolate brown hair, and muted grey eyes.   
“Coming, Alphard?” He says while his eyes dart over my form, taking in me, however I can tell by the incessant slight tapping of his foot he has no real interest. I inwardly sigh in relief, if I sat with Alphard, he’d start asking more questions. Alphard opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I cut him off.  
“No, that’s ok Alphard. Go and sit with your friends, you’ve been a great help, I won’t trouble you any longer.” I gave a reassuring smile, and he gave me an almost regretful half smile, searching my eyes, before heading after his friend. I climb in slower, putting as much distance between me and him, and proceed to look for an open compartment. I find one at the back of the train, and settle myself by the window.   
“You can come out now, if you’d like.” Immediately Inferno slides out of his hiding place. He moves his head onto my shoulder, keeping his body around my neck.   
“Precious one’s new den?” He glances around clearly unimpressed. I laugh.  
“No. Not yet, but we will be there soon.”   
“Good, no hunting space here.” I laugh again, and look out the window. .  
The train starts to move just as a strong Aspectu approaches my general direction, mere seconds before the compartment doors slide open. There, stands a boy with raven black hair and piercing, black eyes. He has a black dress shirt on with an emerald green tie, black and pristine shoes. His hair is thick and short, ending in a slight curl on his neck. His features are honed into fine points, and his body language concentrated. His mouth sets in a grim line as he notices me. His gaze narrows, and zips over me, until a lanky boy with misty blond hair side-steps him into the box. His white sweater hangs low and he has cleanly pressed pants on. He was tall but not taller than the raven haired boy. He looks at me expectantly, but I simply gaze at him, my eyes level.   
“This box is ours. You’ll have to move,” he hisses out when I make no sign of moving. When I still give no sign of moving he starts towards me, as if he’s going to physically remove me from the cart. My fingers grip my wand inside my jacket pocket, and my muscles all tense. He reaches out just when Inferno jerks awake. He rears up and hisses at the boy, and the boy freezes in his tracks, jerking his hand back as if something had burnt him, staring at Inferno with wide white rimmed eyes. Though, Inferno may have lashed out at him in some way. Somehow he could perform certain spells, but not in the same way wizards do.   
A low, rippling, chuckle comes from the raven haired boy, and he passes the blond boy and sits across from me, with a smile. Looking back at the blond boy his smile hardens.  
“Calm down Edmond. Come sit and bring the others.” His voice is rich, acidic, and authoritative. It shows that he is used to being obeyed. With a jerk I realize it’s the same way my father speaks. I log that away for later use.   
Edmond steps out and comes back a second later with three other boys, then moves and sits beside the raven haired boy with an annoyed huff.   
"Well go on then, introduce yourselves." he growls to the other boys. A bit of tension seeps out of them, almost in a physical wave. They don pleasant faces, an obvious practiced move.   
The first boy who had entered after Edmond steps towards me. He's smaller than Edmond, but only just so. He wears a gray cardigan with a cream undershirt, and jeans. His skin is smooth, the only abrasion, a silvery scar running down the left side of his neck. A large expensive looking watch rests atop his left wrist. His eyes are dove gray and they twinkle as he scans me, something that seems to be a bit more common here than in America.   
"Abraxas Malfoy. Pleasure." He looks at the raven haired boy, "This train is late, we'll be late to dinner." He scowls, but in a teasing way, although I can tell it really does bother him. He sits beside me, and Inferno gives him a quizzical look.   
The next boy slides into the spot next to Edmond and smooths down his crisp baby blue shirt and dark jeans, his skin has a strange grey sheen, and his nails are perfectly manicured. His gelled down brown hair was immaculately styled. He extends his hand to me.  
"Orion Black. Nice to meet you." I can spot the exact moment he feels the temperature of my skin. His brandy eyes widen minimally, and he draws back quicker than necessary.   
I don't miss the way he wipes his hand on his pants either.   
They last guy takes his time stepping into the cart. His skin is pale and his rain puddle grey eyes had a sunken in look to them. His light brown hair was in a disarray, and he wore a black leather jacket with black jeans. One ear was pierced and a diamond stud earring glittered at me. A cigarette hangs out of his mouth, and the smell of tobacco fills the cart. He's about as tall as Edmond. He sits down on the other side of Abraxas.  
“Leo Rosier.” he levels his gaze at me, and we are locked in a staring contest before he finally looks away. Edmond speaks up, cutting through the heaviness the cart had suddenly acquired.   
“Edmond Avery, a pleasure I’m sure.” I turn my gaze toward the raven haired boy, waiting. He smiles back at me, and I notice that it doesn't quite reach his eyes.   
"Tom Riddle, I’m sure we will get along." The name shoots through me, sharper than a dagger.   
No. No! Why? Out of all the carts, why did this one have to be the one he would go to?  
I show none of my surprise on my face of course, and reach out to take his hand, but with surprising quickness, he flips my hand palm down and presses his lips to the back of it, glancing up at me through his eyelashes. I allow only a raised eyebrow at his actions, and am sure to steady my heart beat. Once he releases my hand I carefully and nonchalantly lay my hand back on my lap. His eyes never leave mine and I realize, on closer inspection, his eyes eyes are actually the color of dark chocolate.   
This is trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in DIRE need of a beta reader! If interested please email me. My email should be in my profile.


End file.
